


unsent letters

by truehumandisaster



Category: Captain America (Comics), Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Emotional Hurt, Gen, Hydra (Marvel), Letters, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-11
Updated: 2016-06-11
Packaged: 2018-07-14 08:18:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7162016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/truehumandisaster/pseuds/truehumandisaster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a collection of letters by steve rogers that have never made their way to their recipients, for one reason or another</p>
            </blockquote>





	unsent letters

**Author's Note:**

> i am in Heartbreak Hell rip me

Dear past me, 

You’re gonna hurt.  
You’re gonna hurt bad. 

You’re gonna wake up in a place they tell you is home, and you’re not gonna recognize a damn thing. People will be different, technology will have changed, and that war you tried to die for will have ended. I’m here to tell you _it’s okay_. It’s going to hurt, but it’s not going to be the end – just the hardest beginning you’ll ever face. 

You’ll make a new home, but what’s more important is you won’t completely lose your old one either. Go with your gut, and trust those that give you their trust. Don’t hide away. It’s easier, but you’ll be miserable. Trust me on this one: you’re going to meet some great people, people you never would have met otherwise, and they’ll be what you fight for. Not your country. Not yourself. Them.

It’s okay, being selfish this one time. 

One last thing, and this one’s important. Don’t forget. 

Jump. 

Don’t hesitate.  
Don’t think.   
Don’t forget.   
_Jump after him._

You’ll survive.  
It’s what you’re best at. 

-S.R.

\-----

 

Dear Buck, 

Haven’t heard from you in a while. Starting to worry of course, but that shouldn’t come as much of a surprise. It was the anniversary of Ma’s death yesterday. Wish you could have been home – I had to take time off just to make sure I was in Brooklyn. Wait til I tell you about what I’ve been doing; I know you’ll get a real kick out of it. Anyway, someone’s still leaving flowers on her grave, and as it’s not you, I’m guessing it was probably one of the kids from next door. She always did have a problem tryin’ to adopt everyone she came in contact with, even though we didn’t have much to give. I don’t know what type they were, but I drew ‘em on the back of this letter. Maybe if you squint hard, you’ll feel like you’re back.

Spent my time in Brooklyn going to all the sights: the alley I got beat up in when we were kids, the building I got thrown out of for pickin’ a fight with the manager’s son, that dance hall I got us _both_ kicked out of, that bar I almost got beat up in, but you stepped in and knocked ‘em out flat. Remember that? I probably shouldn’t be smiling at the memory, but sometimes, it’s those memories that light a fire in me. Also make me miss you, you damn jerk. Had to go fight the war without me, huh? Well, don’t worry, I’ll be there soon, and we can win the damn thing together. 

If you don’t answer though, I’m gonna be forced to head over right now and pull you out of whatever danger you landed in. I get it: you can’t tell me where you are or what you’re doing, but I wish there was a way for me to know you were doin’ alright and keeping warm. I’d like to think I’d sense if anything happened to you, but I can see you rolling your eyes right now, so I’d probably end this letter right here.

Steve   
September 17, 1943 

P.S. I’m not saying anymore, because I’d rather just tell you how things have been when you get back. Gives you a reason to avoid too much trouble, at least. Stay safe, Buck. Please.

\-----

 

To my best girl,

I stopped by, but you were sleeping. Figured I’d write you a quick message so that you know I didn’t forget today – your birthday, right? I’ve missed so many of them that I was glad I could make this one. I brought you some flowers, and I can almost see how bright your face always lights up when you see those edelweiss. Same ones from Germany, and while I can’t exactly say I miss it over there, I do miss that.

I know I just meant to jot down a note, but here I am, staring at the paper like I’ve got more to say.

And I do have more to say. A lifetime of words and memories and pain and laughter that we’ll never experience. I’m glad you found your little slice of happiness, but I wish we hadn’t missed our dance, Peggy. God, I wish we hadn’t missed it.

Took a walk today. Found this little pond and sat by it for awhile. I’ve adjusted, as you told me I would, but that’s not as comforting a thought as I once believed. What do I do now that I’ve adjusted? I think a part of me expected I wouldn’t come back from the war. ~~Does a soldier ever really come home?~~ I think a part of me also expected I’d have you and Bucky to figure things out with if I did. Don’t think for a second I regret taking the dive or that I’m turning into a bitter old man. These are just things I gotta say. You know how it is.

~~You think we would have been happy?~~

I’ll come back to visit soon. Something big’s stirring at SHIELD, but you know what they say – if you haven’t heard about it, it means we’ve done our job.

Steve  
March 30, 2014

\-----

 

Dear Mom, 

Been awhile since I wrote to you. To be honest, I’m not really sure what to say. 

I went to visit you last week, so you’ve been on my mind – dusted off the stone, laid some fresh flowers down, said that Bible verse you liked so much. Did the same for Dad. I hope you found your peace. I know it was tough in the end; it’s still tough now, but you were one helluva fighter. They think I got that from Dad, but it was you. 

I can’t help but ask _would Sarah Rogers be proud of me?_

I don’t know the answer to that anymore. War wasn’t really something you wanted for me, I know that much. You got into the business of healing folks, and I got into the business of taking lives. Funny how that works. I guess I’ll figure it out, and if I don’t, I’ll be seeing you soon enough.

As I said, there’s nothing much to say that hasn’t been said a thousand times in a thousand ways.

~~I miss you, Mom.~~ Wish you could make one of your famous pies, because I still haven’t found a place that smells more like home than when you baked. I’ll try to make you proud – doesn’t matter the year, doesn’t matter what I look like. 

Steve  
April 23, 2014

\-----

 

Dear Buck, 

I’ve written you about a dozen of these and haven’t sent a single one. I’d call myself a coward if it wasn’t for the fact I can see you rolling your eyes at me. I don’t think you’d ever get this anyways. There’s not really a P.O. Box for men on the run. If there was, I’d have found you months ago. It doesn’t matter; that’s not the important part. 

I won’t waste paper on apologizes, not when I’ve been slipping them into prayers ever since the bridge. I won’t waste paper on begging you to come home ( doesn’t matter where that home is, just come back to me ), not when I know you’ll come when you’re ready. I just wanted to…talk. To write to my best friend. Hell, I even drew on the back of this letter like I used to when you were in the army and I was busy waiting by the window like I was your girl that you had to leave behind. You goddamn jerk. 

I’ve decided I’m going to make you a big home cooked meal for your birthday this year. It’s getting closer, ~~if you remember that~~. Alright, now, I know I can’t really cook – and kitchens these days are about as confusing as an airplane – but there are a few dishes I know you’ll love. That’s a damn good motivator to come back, ain’t it? 

Stay safe, Buck, and wear a coat. I know how you feel about winter. 

-Steve  
March 1, 2015

\-----

 

Dear someone I hate,

I never wanted to _kill_ anyone; you changed my mind.

I tore you down once, sending the Red Skull back to hell. I’ll destroy you again for all the harm you’ve caused since. Bucky, Wanda, Pietro, and God knows how many others… You think you can just dig your hands inside someone’s brain and make them comply? You think you can take over, because you deem it _right_? 

I got news for you, pal: so long as I’m breathing, I’m going to be pushing back – even if I was the only one against a thousand of you, I’d push back. You want to know the great thing though? ( This is top secret, and I’m sure you’ll appreciate that. ) I’m not the only one coming after you, and after we get through ripping you apart brick by brick, you won’t be able to find a neck to grow another head. 

Try to change history all you want. You can’t change this. 

I never wanted to kill anyone, but I’m looking forward to watching you squirm. It’s been a long fight, after all, and it’s time it reached its end. If you want forgiveness, you’ll have to pray to God, because I ain’t giving it. 

Captain America sends his regards.

\-----

 

Sam,  
 ~~In case of death.~~

It’s happened. I’m dead, probably doing something you told me not to. Figures, huh? I hope you’re not too angry about that. You’ll get through it, I know. Doesn’t make it any easier. You’ve been holding us up for a while now, and I never did say thanks for that. Guess I’m asking you to hold up for a little while longer. 

I need one last thing from you. I need you to keep going. Keep protecting people. Keep searching. Keep being the hero you’ve always been. Take my shield. I know, I know. SHIELD or the government or Stark or, hell, even the Smithsonian will try to say you’ve got no right to it. It’s yours though. Maybe it was always meant to be yours. You get the title with it too: _Captain America_. You know what it means, and there’s not many others that deserve it like you do. 

You once asked what made me happy. The question got me thinking a lot – hell, even as I’m writing this, I’m still not sure. I do know one thing: whatever thing I’ve done, I did because I thought it was right, and I’m okay with that. Wish I could have made it another year though. Holidays with you were one thing that made me happy, that’s for damn sure. ( You should check in my closet, top shelf. There might be a Christmas present for you up there. Stupid, I know, but it was always one of my favorite holidays. ) 

I guess this is goodbye, huh? I’ve never been much good at those. 

Raise a glass to freedom for me,  
Steve

\-----

 

Dear future me, 

I hope you finally pulled your head out of your ass, Rogers. How many excuses did you come up with before you finally did all those things you said you would? Things weren’t looking good, but that shouldn’t stop you from _living_. You spent enough time asleep in that ice. I swear to God ( sorry God ), if you didn’t learn anything from waiting too long last time – 

I hope you finally learned from your mistakes. There’s a ton of them to choose from. If you haven’t, consider this your reminder.

-S.R.


End file.
